


not getting any better

by cleareddoubt



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Angst, Nobody likes Micah, Sick Arthur, Spoilers, idk how to tag, tuberculosis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-03
Updated: 2019-06-03
Packaged: 2020-04-07 07:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19080124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cleareddoubt/pseuds/cleareddoubt
Summary: Arthur is sick.





	not getting any better

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first fic ive written and posted so if you have criticism feel free to send thanx

Arthur knew that the camp had to keep moving. He didn’t want to slow anybody down, he just pushed and pushed himself.

People knew he was sick. He couldnt hide his constant coughing. How he’d collapse onto the ground and clutch his stomach as blood would get coughed up. 

He, along with everyone else was worried. 

But he didn’t want to put these people in pain and stress, they saved him. They didn’t make him do as much work around camp anymore, or even make him do nightwatch.

He hated it, he hated being a burden. 

He started to manage to stop his coughing at times, trying to rest more to get rid of those circles around his eyes, but still trying to do his share besides his weak state. 

Micah seemed to glare at him more often, like he resented how Arthur was seemingly getting better. But everyone else seemed to be in such a better mood, he wasn’t gonna let himself be brought down to that rat’s level.

He even started to feel better, just seeing everyone smile more. He went on a ride with Charles to go hunting, without the constant asking of his cough. It made him feel happy for the first time in a long while.

But then he started to cough more again, he couldn’t handle it. He even thought he couldn’t breathe at times, hunching over every other minute just to wheeze and cough. He could hear his lungs rattle when he would breathe in.

His eyebags returned, he felt weaker. Maybe it was from pushing himself? He didn’t know, he just hated feeling this way.

He left camp more often, assuring everyone he was okay. He would try to not cough too much around his horse when riding, to not alert her. He decided to take a ride by himself today, just to clear his mind.

Once he got to the destination, a small sandy area connecting to a calm river, he sat down and took out his journal. Writing and drawing in it always seemed to help him when he felt stressed. He started to sketch the river and trees, smiling to himself.

He liked having the sounds of the river splashing fill his ears. It made him feel a sense of tranquility, something he doesn’t get too often.

Theres people riding their own horses behind him, quickly greeting eachother as the other would ride off. It started to get dark by now, the sky turning a dark blue as stars begin to appear.

His train of thought is interrupted when he hears someone’s riding come to a complete stop. He hears footsteps, he turns around and sees Micah. His face scrunches up, this is the last person he’d want to see right now, at the time he finally gets to be alone from all the mess happening in camp.

Arthur asks him why he’s here, why he’s bothering him. Micah only responds with a shrug with that stupid grin on his face, and steps closer. Arthur isn’t somebody to run away from a situation like this. He steps closer as well, getting defensive.

They start to yell at eachother, Micah complaining about Arthur getting better, about how he should just be dead already. Arthur calling Micah a rat, how he’s the reason why things are falling apart.

Its finally dark out now, and theres noone trotting by. Its just the two of them, where no soul can hear.

Suddenly, Micah shoots Arthur in the stomach. He couldn’t feel it at first, he only heard the shot. Very quickly he felt the pain, as he tightly hugged himself around his stomach to try to deal with it. He probably won’t die immediately, but still not having enough energy left to get back at Micah, to shoot him.

Arthur chokes on his words, yelling some kind of insults to the rat as he falls to his knees. Micah sneers at him, kicking him in the chest, making him fall back. 

He can’t take it. Maybe before, he could, but with him getting worse, pushing himself, being so weak and sick.

He doesn’t think he can do it anymore. He tries to reach out to Micah as he walks off, leaving Arthur cold and alone. His voice is too raspy to yell for any kind of help. 

He bleeds out onto the ground. His horse has already run away from the gunshot, he can’t find the energy to whistle for her.

He didn’t wanna die like this.


End file.
